


Seeing Ghosts

by Agapostemon



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Dragon Age II Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Forgiveness, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, POV Alternating, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Dragon Age II, Post-Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Pre-Relationship, Velanna (Dragon Age) has Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-12 04:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agapostemon/pseuds/Agapostemon
Summary: Velanna died defending the Keep. Or at least, that's what everyone thinks. Everyone except a certain perky dead dwarf  who she just keeps crossing paths with for some reason...





	1. Velanna

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Dragon Age II and Awakening spoilers, descriptions of grief and anxiety attacks
> 
> \---
> 
> This takes place sometime between the end of DA2 and Inquisition. I fudged the timeline slightly, so don't think about it too hard, haha.

Something keeps pulling Velanna back to the surface. No matter how many times she tells herself this is the last time – this is the time she’ll die in the Deep Roads looking for her sister, not return to the surface like a coward – she always finds herself back here anyways. Back here lurking around the house of some stupid, privileged shemlen who had the nerve to call her “my lady” once upon a time, as if a human noble could ever find her worthy of respect.

Yet some part of her wishes she could hear those words again. Wishes they really meant something. But they can’t possibly… can they? No. Of course not. She refuses to believe those words were anything more than a formality. Because if they were, that would mean she made a mistake when she faked her death and disappeared during the battle at the Keep. And she’s made too many of those already. She can’t bear to discover she’s made another.

Besides, what would he even say if he saw her now, almost a decade later? “I told you so,” probably. After all, when she emerges from the Deep Roads, she does more than just check in on Nathaniel. She’s also taken to travelling around defending elves and shemlen alike from darkspawn stragglers and marauding demons. Something she still doesn’t have the courage to share with anyone from her old life for fear of that dreaded “I told you so.” It is the primary, perhaps the only, reason they all still think she’s dead.

Well, _most_ of them still think she’s dead, at least…


	2. Sigrun

SNAP! _Whoosh_.

One moment Sigrun is making her way towards Nathaniel’s door to deliver a message, the next she’s being scooped into the air in a clattering mess of armor and astonishment. She never believed that falling into the sky nonsense, but for a split second she wonders if it’s real and it’s finally happening.

Once she’s no longer actively being swept into the sky, she takes inventory of her situation. She’s unharmed aside from a few bruises, but for some reason she’s now dangling from a tree in a net instead of walking with her feet firmly planted on the ground as she had been seconds before.

Just as she’s wondering _why_ she’s now hanging from a tree, encased in the world’s weirdest hammock, a possible explanation appears below in the familiar form of a notoriously stubborn blonde elf lurking around the perimeter of Nathaniel’s property. The only question is, is she the manufacturer of the trap or is she its intended target? Only one way to find out.

“Oh, hello fellow dead person!” Sigrun waves down at her old friend.

“What are _you_ doing here?” hisses Velanna from the ground.

“I could ask you the same,” Sigrun says, trying unsuccessfully to make herself comfy inside the net, “Last I saw you, you were off pretending the be dead in the Deep Roads. Does this mean you’ve decided to come back to life?”

“It most certainly does _not_,” Velanna scowls up at her through the darkness.

“Ohhh, so Nathaniel still doesn’t know you’re alive?”

“No. And it better _stay_ that way.”

“Wow, you’re better at being dead than I am!” Sigrun giggles.

“No thanks to you,” Velanna hisses. “Keep your voice down!”

“Hey, I’ve kept your secret for six years now,” Sigrun defends. “I think I’m deserving of at least _one_ thank.”

“Hey!” a familiar voice booms from above, interrupting their banter, “Who’s out—"


	3. Nathaniel

“_Velanna_?” Nathaniel’s voice softens to something equal parts confused and reverent. When he set traps around his property to catch whoever or whatever had been _stalking_ him, he wasn’t expecting to find a long dead friend lurking among his bushes.

“And what am I, chopped nug liver?” Sigrun objects from the net trap where she’s still hanging.

“_Yes_,” Velanna growls up at her.

“My apologies for the… predicament, friend,” Nathaniel shoots the dwarf an apologetic grimace. “I’ll be out to release you momentarily. Obviously you were not my intended target, though I would like to know what brings you here once we—excuse me, _my lady_, where are you going?” he pins a glare on Velanna, who seems to be trying to disappear into the bushes.

“Leave me alone,” she snaps back, “I’m dead, remember?”

“Well, I’m dead too and you don’t see me trying to run away,” Sigrun interjects.

“You couldn’t if you wanted to!” Velanna gestures up at the net she’s in.

“I see a decade of being dead hasn’t changed you a bit, my lady,” Nathaniel laughs.

Velanna doesn’t have a retort to that, but he can see her fidget uncomfortably in the waning light.

“Or perhaps it has,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her since he doubts she can hear him from so far away. Then, more loudly, he announces, “Stay put. I’ll meet you down there to discuss… whatever you two have been up to in my yard.”

“Fear not! I’m not going anywhere,” Sigrun snorts.

“Isn’t spotting and disarming traps sort of… your job, as a scout?” Velanna points out.

Nathaniel doesn’t hear Sigrun’s retort, though, because he’s already on his way downstairs. When he opens his door, his breath is taken away by the sight of Velanna up-close for the first time in… heck, ten years? He hasn’t seen her since he left her behind at Vigil’s Keep, only to return to the Keep destroyed and her… gone. Dead, as far as anyone could figure.

But now here she is in the flesh, and he can hardly believe his eyes. The years have changed her, certainly. They’ve changed him, too. But she’s still so unmistakably… _her_. Dripping with the same stubborn beauty as she had when he met her.

Not everything is the same, though. The Velanna he remembers was more than just stubborn – she was _bitter_. Bitterness coursed through her veins like blood. But now, staring across his lawn at her illuminated in the setting sun, he sees no bitterness. He sees a lot of things: anger, fear, shame. But no bitterness.

“Sorry to interrupt the silent reunion, but when you’re done staring at each other from across the yard, could someone maybe let me down from this tree?” Sigrun prompts. “It smells fantastic up here, but my butt’s starting to cramp from sitting in this net.”

“Right, yes,” Nathaniel snaps out of his trance and makes his way over to the tree to begin lowering the net trap to the ground. “My apologies again.”

“No worries!” Sigrun laughs as she stands back up on solid ground. “You know I never turn down an interesting new surface experience.”

“So I take it that trap was intended for me?” Velanna asks.

“Depends,” Nathaniel retorts. “Are you the one who’s been lurking around my property and peering in my windows every night for the past week? If so: yes. Though had I known it was you, my lady, I would have arranged a more proper welcome.”

Velanna scowls, “You keep calling me that.”

“Of course I do,” Nathaniel retorts, locking his eyes on hers. “We’ve been over this before. Are you not a beautiful and intelligent woman, worthy of respect?”

“Spare me your formalities,” she breaks eye contact as fast as he makes it. “How can you respect someone you know nothing about?”

“I’ll just… be inside eating all your snacks, then,” Sigrun announces, scuttling towards the door without waiting for a reply. “You two have fun catching up!”


	4. Velanna

“Good point,” Nathaniel has the absolute _nerve_ to say. “It would be foolish to extend my respect to someone I know nothing of. Good thing I know plenty about you.”

“Oh really?” Velanna snarls. “In that case: where have I been the past ten years?”

She regrets it as soon as it comes out of her mouth, but it’s not like she can take it back. Just like she can’t take back disappearing for ten years out of, what? Fear of being a hypocrite?

“Does it matter? You’re here now.”

“Of _course_ it matters!” she splutters. “It matters a great deal!”

“Well then,” he gives her that infuriating smile of his, halfway between smug and patient, “why don’t you just tell me? I’d certainly like to know.”

Something prickles inside of her. She’s not sure if it’s because she doesn’t trust him or because she doesn’t trust herself. But she knows she has to push past it, and that thought _terrifies_ her in a way that shakes her to her core. Suddenly, she feels frozen in place, like the world is rushing past her but she can’t make a sound or move a muscle.

“My lady?”

She can’t just stand here. She has to say _something_. Preferably the truth.

“I’m here whenever you’re ready to share.”

The truth, which is that she was _wrong_. She was wrong to let bitterness rule her life. She was wrong to take that bitterness out on innocent people. She was wrong to assume the worst in everyone she met. She was wrong to disappear and burn every bridge she’d build just to escape _admitting_ she was wrong.

But how can this shem who’s been handed everything in life understand any of that? What if all he can make of it is “I told you so”?

“Velanna?” Nathaniel’s deep, level voice interrupts her anxiety spiral, “You’re breathing fast. Are you alright?”

“Of course I am!” she straightens her back. “It’s just hard to summarize ten years, is all!”

“Right,” he gives her a look that tells her he’s not buying it. “In that case, why don’t you just summarize the most recent year?”

She grimaces. This is her chance. If she puts it off any longer, she doubts she’ll ever tell the truth. So she sucks a deep breath in through her teeth and begins, “If you’re going to go around claiming to know me, you need to know that I’m a coward…”

And then she tells him everything. Tells him about faking her death. Tells him about fruitlessly searching the Deep Roads for her sister, even if it’s a lost cause. Tells him she helps shemlen, now, and dares him to call her a hypocrite for it. Tells him she’s missed him, even if she doesn’t deserve to. Tells him she’s sorry. Because someone once told her that a late apology is better than none.

And not once does he say “I told you so.”

Instead, he reaches out a warm, calloused hand to cup her cheek and trace her ear with his thumb. And he… thanks her?

“What are you thanking me for?” she snaps, pulling away.

“For trusting me,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, “and for owning up to your mistakes. It’s an admirable thing to do.”

She can’t think of anything to say in response to that, but she silently thanks the gods that it’s too dark for Nathaniel to see the blush she feels creeping across her cheeks.


	5. Sigrun

It’s almost 3am when Nathaniel and Velanna make their way back inside, at which point Sigrun has sampled most of Nathaniel’s snack supply and made herself at home with a book on his couch, perfectly content to wait up for her friends. She never quite got the hang of the whole daylight-based sleep cycle thing surfacers do, anyways.

Unfortunately for her and the semi-urgent message she came to deliver, though, Nathaniel looks about 90% asleep when he returns from the yard with Velanna in tow. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some sleep before the sun comes up,” he says with a yawn. “Will you two be alright unsupervised, or should I expect to wake up to find you both missing along with half my food and knick-knacks?”

“That was _one time_!” Sigrun says in mock-protest.

“I’m not a _thief_!” Velanna defends, looking genuinely hurt.

“I think that last part was directed at me,” Sigrun assures her with a grin. “Old habits die hard.”

Nathaniel rolls his eyes, “In that case, I’ll see you both in the morning. _Right_?”

“You have my word,” Velanna nods seriously.

“Of course! I have news to deliver and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve delivered it,” Sigrun says.

“Excellent. Goodnight then,” Nathaniel bids them both adieu and trudges sleepily up the stairs.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Sigrun gets up on her knees and folds her arms over the back of the couch, grinning eagerly at Velanna, “So, how’d it go?”

Without answering, Velanna props her staff up in the nearest corner before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, folding her arms and legs in and pressing herself against the arm of the couch as if to keep as much distance between them as possible. Grumpy as ever.

“Okay, be that way,” Sigrun flops back down on the couch, careful to keep her feet out of Velanna’s personal bubble despite the temptation to poke her with them.

“You’re making fun of me,” Velanna says, frowning in the direction of the nearest bookcase.

“What? No I’m not!” Sigrun defends, “Believe it or not, I actually _like_ hearing about my friends’ lives. And what better time to gossip about Nathaniel than when he’s asleep? I doubt either of us will be sleeping anytime soon, anyways.”

“I suppose not,” Velanna admits, letting down her guard a bit but still dodging the actual question. “I don’t feel tired at all.”

“In that case, let’s try this again: how’d it go?”

Velanna sighs, “He _thanked_ me. Who _thanks_ someone for admitting they screwed up?”

“Uh, lots of people?” Sigrun points out.

“Well, he wasn’t supposed to!” Velanna protests, “He was supposed to be angry!”

Sigrun tilts her head quizzically, “Why would you want him to be angry? Isn’t thanking you uh… _better_?”

“No!” Velanna snaps, “You don’t understand!”

“Okay then, explain it to me.”

Velanna is silent for a long while, as if she’s searching for words. Finally, quietly, she says, “I wanted him to be angry because that would justify what I did. It would mean I made the right choice by… leaving. But instead he… he forgave me. That’s not what I expected to happen. It… it changes everything. It means I was _wrong_. Again. If means I’ve been operating on a false premise for the past ten years.”

“So?” Sigrun shrugs. “Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes big ones. Wanna know what I came here to tell Nathaniel?”

“What?”

“Anders and Justice pulled some you-from-ten-years-ago tier nonsense.”

Velanna just looks confused.

“They blew up half a city in the name of mage liberation.”

“_Oh_.”

“So they’re on the run, now, and could really use our help,” Sigrun explains, “because friends stick together and help clean up each other’s messes, right? Even when one of them makes a_ big_ mistake.”

Velanna has returned to scowling at the bookcase, so Sigrun gives her a moment to think. After several minutes, she hesitantly speaks up, “What do you mean by me-from-ten-years-ago?”

“Uh, bitter? Reckless? Head so far up your butt that you couldn’t be bothered to check your facts before exacting revenge?”

“You don’t think I’m still like that?” Velanna sounds equal parts scared and hopeful.

“Of course not!” Sigrun laughs and gently shoves her friend’s thigh with her foot. “Ten years is a lot of time to grow and change. Nowadays I think you might hate yourself more than you hate humans. Which is its own problem, but… hey, we’ll work on that.”

For the first time all night, Velanna looks over and meets Sigrun’s eyes, “I want to come with you.”

“Uh?”

“To help Anders and Justice. I want to come with you and Nathaniel,” she says boldly, “I want to prove that I deserve his forgiveness. And yours.”

Sigrun laughs, “You don’t have to prove anything, friend. But I’d love to have you along, and I bet Nathaniel would too. He likes you a lot, y’know.”

Velanna blanches, “He… what?!”

“He adores you! Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”

“N-no! How does he look at me? How do you know he’s not just staring at my ears?”

“Trust me,” Sigrun plaps her friend’s shoulder with her foot and gives her a knowing smile. “He’s not just staring at your ears. He _likes_ you, Velanna!”

Velanna still looks uncertain.

“Hang on,” Sigrun hops up from the couch and putters over to one of Nathaniel’s bookshelves, standing on tiptoes to reach for a book she’s picked up so many times that she’s memorized its location. Once she has the book, she trots back to the couch and hands it to Velanna.

“What—my journal!” the elf exclaims. “Where did you… he kept it?!”

“Surana found it in the wreckage after we returned to the Keep. Nathaniel asked to keep it. To remember you by, and so he could write out copies of your stories for Surana to distribute to Dalish clans he encounters on his travels,” Sigrun explains.

“He…” Sigrun is pretty sure she sees tears welling in Velanna’s eyes as she stares down at the journal, “_Oh_.”

Sigrun plops down on the couch, this time much closer to Velanna, and wraps her friend up in a tight hug, “Maybe it’s time to stop being so surprised that people care about you.”

“I should thank him in the morning,” Velanna murmurs, running her hands over the worn leather cover.

Sigrun snorts, “At this rate, it’ll be afternoon before either of us is awake!”

Velanna gives her a wry smile, “I suppose we should head to bed, then.”

Sigrun laughs, “Yeah, probably. You wanna take the couch? When was the last time you slept on furniture, anyways?”

Velanna lets out an almost inaudible puff of laughter, “About a decade ago.”

“_Yikes_. Yeah, you take the couch, I’ll be fine on the floor.”

Velanna nods absently but doesn’t move to get ready for bed, electing instead to continue staring blankly into middle distance.

Sigrun prods at her temple, “Helloooo, anybody in there?”

“Yeah,” Velanna nods. “Just... thinking.”

“About what?”

Velanna sighs, “How much I miss sleeping next to Seranni. It’s… silly, I know. It’s been over a decade. But I miss her.”

Sigrun lights up, “Y’know, I think I have just the thing to help with that.”

Velanna looks puzzled.

“You may not have found _your_ sister in the Deep Roads, but maybe you did find _a_ sister down there,” Sigrun hints with a twinkle in her eye. It’s a bold assertion and she knows it, but she’s starting to think maybe the feeling is mutual.

“What?” Velanna blinks.

“…_me_, you doofus. I’m talking about me.”

“Oh,” Velanna responds in a small voice. “I… you really think of me as a sister?”

“Yeah,” Sigrun flashes her signature lopsided grin, “I do, as a matter of fact. If that’s okay.”

“Y-yeah,” Velanna looks shaken but not offended, “it’s okay. I… just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Well, get used to it, because it’s true,” Sigrun assures her. “So anyways, what I’m saying is: there’s nothing I can do to bring Seranni back, and I won’t pretend I can replace her, but if you’d like some bedtime snuggles I’d be happy to provide.”

Velanna stares down at her own hands for so long that Sigrun starts to wonder if she’s crossed a line. But just as she’s about to open her mouth to apologize, Velanna speaks up in a creaky near-whisper, “I’d like that, yes.”

“Really?” Sigrun perks up and immediately hops off the couch to start rummaging around the spare bedding chest Nathaniel has wisely left in his living room for nights like this. “I’ll get a spot set up for us!”

Velanna looks profoundly uncomfortable but doesn’t protest, so Sigrun takes it as evidence of anxiety rather than a sign that she should back off. Still, she opts for one last check-in before inviting her friend to join her in her freshly constructed floor bed.

“You sure you actually want this? You’re not just saying yes not to hurt my feelings or something silly like that?”

Velanna raises an eyebrow, “When have you_ ever _known me to agree to something I didn’t want to do? Last I checked, being mean was kind of my calling card.”

“Fair point,” Sigrun snorts. “In that case, the bed’s ready whenever you are!”


	6. Velanna

An indecipherable wave of emotions rushes over Velanna as she shucks off her boots and crawls into bed with Sigrun, who immediately sprawls all over her like a starfish and nuzzles her face into her shoulder. For the second time in one night, she feels the warmth of someone else’s skin against hers, and it’s so mindbogglingly _cozy_ that she fears she might explode into a million pieces if it continues.

It’s like one hole in her heart, the lonely one that’s desperate for touch and care, is being filled so fast that it might overflow, but the hole where Seranni belongs is still painfully empty and raw in comparison. She wants to cry but doesn’t want Sigrun to see, so she desperately holds it in.

“Uh, you okay?” the dwarf asks. “You’re not really… breathing?”

Velanna tries to compose herself to assure her friend that she’s fine, but when she opens her mouth all that comes out is a strangled hiccup of a sob.

Sigrun responds with a full-body hug, which somehow simultaneously comforts her and makes her want to cry all the more. An all-around confusing experience. “Y’know I won’t judge you if you cry, right?” she coaxes.

Velanna isn’t sure she trusts that claim, but all she can manage is a teary-eyed “hmph” before she breaks down sobbing in spite of herself.

True to her word, Sigrun doesn’t make fun of her. She just silently wraps around her and holds her until she’s done, then hands her the corner of a blanket to wipe her nose on. Which is a bit gross, but she’s not in a position to be picky right now.

“See? Sometimes you just need a good cry when the grief gets too big to handle. Trust me, I know.”

Velanna huffs and makes a face, but it’s true. She does feel better. The grief is still there, pulsing at the back of her mind like it always is, but it’s no longer so raw that she can’t think of anything else. At long last, she can feel herself becoming sleepy.

Before she can let herself drift off to sleep, though, she needs to say something, because she’s afraid she won’t have the courage to say it tomorrow. “You’re not Seranni. You’ll never replace Seranni. But I…” she pauses, mulling over her words to make absolutely certain she’s ready to say them, “I think I could get used to having you as a sister.”

“Awww,” Sigrun tilts her head to grin up at her before shoving her face into Velanna’s armpit and nuzzling in as if that's a perfectly normal position to sleep in, “See? I knew you weren’t a heartless meanie!”

Velanna snorts, “Don’t tell the others. They might start getting ideas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember that I write purely for fun and catharsis. My fics are unbeta’d and minimally proofread. They’re not perfect, and that’s okay. If you notice something I could fix or improve, please keep those thoughts to yourself. If I genuinely want critique, I’ll ask a close friend in private. **Surprise critiques are very stressful and discouraging.** Thanks for understanding!


End file.
